Le Garçon Qui Ne Vivants Pas
by killtheposeurs
Summary: -COMPLETE! Epilogue coming soon- Father told me to always be ashamed of the fact that I was a mudblood, himself being the only person in Hogwarts history to bribe the sorting hat for their child. Kidnapping, adultery, rape, seduction. DG, of course.
1. The Initial Visit

A/N: Yes, parts of this are in French. I wanted a one-shot, and here it is. Be prepared: The story may not end how you think it will.

Le Garçon Qui Ne vit Pas plus

I was just a rookie journalist. My first job, it seemed, was a rather lucky one. I was to interview the boy who had defeated Voldemort. Though a boy he was no more, at the age of 22, he had sadly lost his mind and sanity to the cause. Supposedly, the story went something like this-

The last battle was conducted on the night before his last day at Hogwarts, in his 7th year. 

Pity, the boy never got to see his graduation. Through his own eyes, of course. That tragic night affected him forever.

The two wands had counteracted, causing a deadly chain reaction. Voldemort was able to escape the terror just in time, as opposed to the poor boy, who had only a second to react, and was struck down by the curse.

So, in most views, He is still living. Yet incapacitated in so many ways. It seemed that a piece had been torn out of his soul; rendering him helpless.

I will never forget that interview-

Never.

-----------------------------------------------------

When I walked into the room, I looked toward a corner and saw a huddling mass. It looked like a small boy was trying to pry his way out of the room. His tousled hair was hanging over his eyes, shadowing his pale face. As pale as ivory. It looked as if he was shivering from the cold, yet the room was very warm.

He was still as brilliant as ever, said the nurses. He only speaks in French, and stares as if he knows a void into your soul. They kept him in an Asylum on the south side of France, the _Esprit torturé de Dieu_. Made for only the severest of patients, or those with a large amount of cash to spare, in some form. Rather upscale, for a wizarding mental hospital.

The facility had given up on trying to give Him therapy, feeling that He was an overall lost cause. Days on end, he just sat in His padded cell, supposedly thinking over the world.

Or about his own demise.

He was a living legend: A household name. Everyone knew who he was. Even his enemies, one in particular, acknowledged that He had saved him from a terrible fate regarding the dark lord. Forgiven by His worst enemy, yet I feel that the feeling wasn't mutual. Some grudges just don't disappear. It was supposedly deep rooted, stemming from their first day of school together.

His nature was usually forgiving, yet the enemy who had forgiven Him was the only one whom he would not forgive.

He decided to speak:

"Qui êtes-vous, et que voulez-vous ?" _Who are you, and what do you want?_

"Mon nom n'est pas important. Je suis venu pour vous parler." _My name is of no importance. I have come to talk to you._ His eyes really did seem to be a window to his soul. I felt as if I could be sucked into those glossy pools, filled with such intense emotion.

I suddenly realized why I was given this troublesome job- I was the only reporter who spoke fluent French. Shame, it had made me feel so special at the time. I sighed, not realizing that He had moved, and was now sitting right in front of me. He was wearing black clothes. All black; as it draped on his frail bones. He frowned, with a plaintive look on his face.

"Je n'ai aucun temps pour des jeux. Conduisez vos affaires, et partez. Je dois aller de nouveau à ma rêverie." _I have no time for games. Conduct your business, and leave. I must go back to my musing._

Hmm, fussy, were we? I'd just see about that…

He turned toward the wall again, ready to start again, when I interrupted him-

"N'êtes-vous pas curieux au sujet de ce qui est continué puisque vous étiez dedans ici ? Au sujet De Virginia ?" _Aren't you curious about what's been going on since you were in here? About __Virginia__?___

I knew that I had struck a low blow, but I didn't care. The doctors had told me that it was the one way to get information about him- Virginia. The one person whom He loved. She was married to his worst enemy, the one whom He would not forgive. I figured that she would live a cold and miserable life, in that large mansion of hers. Locked in a room like a songbird; expected to sing for everyone who asked. She came weekly to talk to Him about everything and anything. The weather, the news, her husband- sometimes she would even cradle him close and sing to Him. He needed the comfort in his life. I supposed that her husband kept her so close was because everyone had been taken away in his own life, and that he didn't want to lose Ginny.

He turned abruptly, "Que savez-vous de la Virginie?" _What do you know of __Virginia__?_ He had asked it in a calm voice, yet I could tell that he was dying for information about his beloved.

"Répondez à mes questions, et je vous dirai." _Answer my questions, and I shall tell you._ He grumbled slightly in approval, though I could tell that there was a glimmering hope in his eyes.

"Que voulez-vous connaître moi ? Je dirai vous autant que je bidon, pourtant pas assez de vous satisfaire. Je ne donne pas loin tous mes secrets à ceux sans noms." _What do you want to know about me? I will tell you as much as I can, yet not enough to satisfy you. I don't give away all of my secrets to those without names. _He smirked slightly, and I grinned.

"Je ne l'aurais pas aucune autre manière." _I wouldn't have it any other way._ Taking out my notepad and a pencil, I prepared to begin. He laid down on the floor of the padded cell, staring at the ceiling.

"Pourquoi vous avez donné votre santé d'esprit à la défaite de Voldemort?" _Why did you give your sanity to the defeat of Voldemort?_

He slowly blinked his half-lidded, translucent eyelids. I could tell that he was interested, yet wary enough to consider not to reply. I wondered where he had learned his caution from. Or from who.

"Madame, je dois vous assurer que je suis toujours très raisonnable. C'est vous qui est aliéné. Ma santé d'esprit reste avec moi, aussi bien que mon bon sens. Juste parce que je parle en français ne signifie pas que je ne suis pas à l'aise en anglais." _Madam, I must assure you that I am still very sane. It is you who is insane. My sanity stays with me, as well as my common sense. Just because I speak in french does not mean that I am not fluent in english._ He laughed, a happy tinkling laugh. As confused as I was, I retained one thing from his convoluted explanation-

"Wait a minute, you understand English?"

"Oui." _Yes_.

"Then why the hell was I speaking in French?"

"Ne me demandez pas que, je n'ai aucune idée." _Don't ask me, I have no idea._ I even laughed at that statement, said so arrogantly, in spite of myself. He really WAS rather dashing.

"Alright, second: Do you feel that you were sorted into the right house?"

He paused for a second, considering the question.

"Je suppose que j'étais. Il était où mes seulement amis étaient, et j'ai prié le chapeau pour moi pour aller là. Je pense qu'il l'avait fait est décision avant main, mais j'ai un sentiment qu'elle a voulu m'envoyer au polaire vis-à-vis de la maison de celle que j'ai été sélectionné pour." _I suppose that I was. It was where my only friends were, and I begged the hat for me to go there. I think it had made it's decision before hand, but I have a feeling that it wanted to send me to the polar opposite house from the one that I was picked for._ He twisted a strand of hair around His finger, still staring at the ceiling. I decided to proceed.

"Third: Why in Merlin's name do you only speak in French?"

"Puisque je ne parle pas le latin très bien. Après ?" _Because I don't speak Latin very well.__ Next? _I laughed again, surprised by his abrupt answer.

"Fourth: Why didn't you marry Virginia when you had the chance?"

He stopped moving. Completely. I could barely distinguish the sound of His breathing.

"Je ne comprends pas l'anglais qui bon. Svp, passer à la prochaine question. Je ne pourrais pas distinguer la signification de vos mots." _I don't understand English that well. Please, move on to the next question. I couldn't distinguish the meaning of your words._

I realized that I had reached a touchy subject. He wasn't going to give me a straight answer on that one. Still, I had one more chance. I decided to grab it and run:

"Why won't you forgive Him?"

He became even stiller, and then grinned manically.

"Excuse me?"

He spoke in a slow and steady voice, slowly growing in tone, "Il peut l'avoir gagnée, mais j'ai gagné la liberté tellement de beaucoup qui sont innocents. Ce n'était pas simplement une inimitié entre les écoliers, non. Il était beaucoup plus que cela. J'ai réalisé mon but, alors qu'il n'a rien. Je suis raisonnable, alors qu'il est encore torturé par ses mémoires passées. Je vis toujours dessus." _He may have won her, but I have won the freedom of so many who are innocent. This wasn't just a feud between schoolboys, no. It was much more than that. I have achieved my goal, while he has nothing. I am sane, while he is still tortured by his past memories. I still live on._

Confused, I asked, "What do you mean by that?"

"Le garçon qui ne vit pas plus. Il est mort, à l'intérieur. Il juste ne le sait pas. I, naturellement, ont l'amour à accrocher dessus à. Il n'a rien de n'importe quelle importance." _The boy who lives no more.__ He is dead, inside. He just does not know it. I, of course, have love to hang on to. He has nothing of any importance._

I decided that this was my cue to leave, as he closed his eyes. Packing up my materials, and opening the door to the padded cell, he left me with one statement:

"Dites-lui que je l'aime." _Tell her that I love her._ His stormy grey eyes were filled with sorrow.

I smiled slightly, "Don't worry, Draco, I will."

I shut the door, and heard the loud clang of metal.

It was the most successful article ever for the Daily Prophet.

-----------------------------------------------------

That was my Halloween treat to you all! And now, the glossary:

_Le Garçon Qui Ne vit Pas plus_- The Boy Who Lives No More

_Esprit torturé de Dieu- _The Tortured Spirit of God.

Now, as those of you who may know me will state, I do NOT take French. I take Spanish. I used an online translator for this story, but was sure that I made the translated sentences as simple as possible, yet still conveying the meaning that I have in italics. Please: Tell me whether you liked my idea. I love reviews, and since this is my first serious fic, I'd love to hear from all of you. Thank you so much for reading, and have a very happy Halloween!

~Ming~


	2. A Bargain

Note- This has been corrected for the sole reason that I needed to add a paragraph of foreshadowing, just so the ending will make sense. Rewrites will come later.

Le Garçon Qui Vivants Pas Plus

Chapter 2

Over the next few weeks, my curiosity exceeded me. There were just so many questions unanswered after my visit that I were dying to know. Papa always had said that I had the spirit and ambition to be a journalist- I wouldn't leave things alone.

Coping with my newfound fame proved to be a chore, of course. I didn't want all of the celebrity that came with being a journalist. I would have just been happier to live as a hermit in the mountains with a typewriter and a great deal of imagination.

Stories were being shoved in my face, stuck on my car, everyone wanted in to the business. It was very hard to show my face in public for about 2 months.

And, of course, the death eaters. Voldemort's regime. I had heard them being compared to some American group called the KKK, but still, never had I seen worse discrimination toward myself. I had no idea that anyone who associated with Draco Malfoy would face the penalty of death. Or worse- public humiliation.

I had enough money and fame to set me off for the rest of my life. I just needed one thing-

To find the answer.

---

Walking very slowly, I entered the large garden area of the Potter Mansion, gasping at the sight of the huge manor in front of me. Mr. Potter obviously felt the need to flaunt his incredible wealth.

And it really **was** an incredible wealth, since the manor was surrounded by the most beautiful flowers I had ever seen. Roses, carnations, tulips. But the most remarkable of them all were the pure white lilies. They almost enveloped a partially ivy-covered statue of some sort of angel with its arms outstretched. I hadn't seen many of these kind of statues- they were said to keep precedence at mausoleums in the southern portion of the United States. Since many of those muggles followed some kind of religion called something like "Christianity".

The statue was a pale marble with its eyes closed and long, flowing romantic hair. It was frozen in a position of despair, like it was missing something rather important. I shrugged the image out of my mind and walked up to the front of the house, pressing the doorbell cautiously when I arrived at the vast doorstep.

"BONG"

The doorbell resonated throughout the property; I could tell even from where I was standing on the doorstep. I heard a loud, barking dog, and then the door creaked open.

I found myself staring at one of the most dashing men I had ever seen. His famous tousled hair was hanging over his eyes, and he was grinning like a maniac.

He saw me and stopped grinning.

"Ah, Miss Alice Everett I presume?"

I slowly nodded, wary of my surroundings. Father had always been told to observe the atmosphere before making a move. Looking to his face, I noted that the usually cheerful face in portraits was fixed in a scowl.

Harry Potter was obviously not very happy to see me.

"Yes, I'm here to interview your wife, Virginia. Is she home?"

He folded his arms across his chest.

"I don't think she wants to talk to you, and I don't want you running one of your exposes on Virginia."

Right on cue, a voice from upstairs rang through the downstairs hallway.

"Harry, who is it?"

"It's the mailman, Virginia. Don't come downstairs!" His eyes narrowed as he yelled up the grand wooden staircase.

I just kept staring at my feet, obviously ashamed. Ashamed because I was intruding on something that wasn't supposed to be interrupted. It was expected that I would receive this kind of reception, I shouldn't have expected any less-

My running thoughts halted as I saw Virginia Potter standing at the top of the staircase. Her famous red hair draped down her back and tapered at her waist in large curls. She was wearing a simple green tea-dress, which emphasized her full figure. It was easy to see why anyone would adore her, with her doe-like face and girlish features.

"That doesn't look like a mailman." She had such a plaintive look on her face. I sighed, she was completely oblivious.

"I'm Alice Everett from the Daily Prophet." Her ears perked up. "Mind if I talk to your for a second?"

"Yes, of course. Is this for another story?"

Ah, that was their reservation. Or, at least, what his was.

"Anything you say to me won't be used in another story. I'm just curious about what's new since our school days at Hogwarts. Remember? You used to tutor me in Herbology, I was in 5th year and you were in 7th."

Her ears perked up, and I knew that meant recognition. It wasn't just another lie; I had been tutored by her, 4 years ago. I didn't think she'd recognize me, but I knew she'd recognize my name. Alice Everett.

A mudblood. Father told me to always be ashamed of the fact that I was a mudblood, himself being the only person in Hogwarts history to bribe the sorting hat for their child. I remember my first day at Hogwarts in Slytherin house; people stared at me as if I was a form of vermin. I had virtually no friends, basically attributing to the fact that I was a mudblood. That dirty, dirty word. But instead of despising purebloods, I admired them and their cruel behavior.

"Oh, ALICE darling! How wonderful for you to come and visit! Please, step inside and we can chat upstairs." She smiled a glowing grin.

"Dear, I don't think that's the best idea-"

"Harry, shut up. I'm practically dying from lack of social interaction." She flashed a pair of large-doe eyes. Mr. Potter sighed, and I knew that Virginia had won the battle. At least- for now.

"Let's just go upstairs-" she grabbed my hand and literally flew upstairs, running through corridors and past sun-rooms and windows and… I became rather dizzy after about 15 seconds.

Finally, we stopped in front of a large, ominous looking door.

"Vous savoir."

The door slowly creaked open, and I could see the makings of a room that looked like a study.

"Sit, please."

The door flew shut, and 5 bolts fastened themselves into place.

She nodded, "I apologize for my husband. This is my secret room, perfectly concealed and the only safe place in the house. Soundproofed, many locks. Advanced alohamora can't even get in here."

I was a tad confused. "It's a very simple password."

"Harry refuses to learn French," she grinned. "Besides, it's only keyed to my voice."

I smiled slightly. It seemed typical of the great Harry Potter to be so stubborn.

"So, what was your question?" The doe-like features of her face had suddenly disappeared and she looked like she always used to at school. Smart, witty, cheerful. Instead of a caged dove, she embodied more of an energetic sparrow.

"As you know, I went to visit Draco at the _Esprit Torture de Dieu_," she nodded and I continued, "and I was wondering whether you wanted me to be a go-between for the two of you. I figured that it must be rather risky for you trying to sneak out and see each other, and I feel that something links me to Draco in history. I remembered that you were a rather good researcher. Care to look up some things in exchange for this small favor?"

She sat very still for a second, then her cheeks regained color.

"Yes, of course. I assume that you found out about my private library?"

The world famous Potter library. Only belonging to Virginia, of course. Harry hated to read, being more of an extrovert. He wore his feelings on his sleeve. I despised him.

I smiled sheepishly, was I THAT transparent? "Kind of… yes… well…"

"It's quite alright. No one uses it except for me. I'll look up some things for you in exchange for you taking some things such as letters to Draco," she bit her lip, I could tell she was nervous.

I grasped her hands in mine. "Everything's going to work out. Don't worry."

She fell into my arms as tears flowed from her starry eyes.

The poor woman.

---

_"Pity, she looks just like her mother."_

_"Yes master, a shame we'll have to kill her."_

_A man sat in front of a fire, his hand absentmindedly grasping the hand of his cane. Elegant and poised, he brushed a strand of hair out of his face._

_"Her stupid father and mother, merlin.__ We'll have her yet, Pettigrew."_

_"Of course, master."_

---

I sat up immediately.

---

Next Time: Family history, let's go visit the psycho boy, and unnecessary flashbacks!

… please don't throw pieces of fruit at me for not updating. I've had severe writer's drought!

/ Review!


	3. Memory

A/N: Yes, I suppose I DID deserve that fruit, Vampire Bat. Apologies- I'm having a severe case of writers block on my much-loved comedies. 

Author's notes next chapter!

Disclaimer- I own nothing except for Alice, Evelyn, the _esprit torture de dieu_, and my little poems. Please don't steal any of them without consulting me. Thank you so much for reading! ((I love reviews! LOVE!))

Le Garçon Qui Ne vit Pas plus 

Chapter 3

_I am the one corruption touched_

_Scorned by heaven and hell alike_

_I rest in deep imprisonment_

_For hope is nonexistant_

_So purgatory claims my sight_

---

"Ohdearohdearohdearohdearohdear…"

"Alice, what's the matter?" Virginia looked up at me; her perplexed features gave away her confusion. It's easy to tell these things when you can read anyone like a book.

I stopped muttering, realizing that I was trembling out of control. I had fallen asleep while cradling her to my chest, not realizing that I was about to crush her petite figure if I didn't stop convulsing. I let go of her instantly, almost dropping her to the floor.

"I had a rather bad dream."

Her eyes widened. "Was it a premonition?"

"Not in the slightest." I felt bad lying, but a lie for the good cause never hurt anyone. 

"You'll be off then, I suppose?"

"I'll pay a visit to your dearest tomorrow." She sighed, relieved. 

"Thank you ever so much for doing this for me. I don't know how I could live without you, Miss Everett."

She turned to walk me out the door. 

"No, thank you." I smiled and proceeded to make my way down the corridors, Ginny leading the way.

---

_The dancers were clothed in beautiful gowns of scarlet and gold. The little girl was overwhelmed with the mass of colors that she perceived, and the sinful smell of sex and alcohol. The music seduced her, drawing her in…_

_"I'd like you to meet my daughter, Evelyn." The girl's father directed her vision to one of the most beautiful men the girl had ever seen. His perfectly sculpted face was angelic and godly, his striking features made a compelling contrast with his pale skin._

_"Monsieur, she is more beautiful than she has been described to me." The man grasped her tiny hand and raised it to his lips, smirking as he did so._

_The father made a sudden move forward, yet retreated for some reason. "She's only eight, Monsieur Mauvais."_

_The man's smirk burst into a full grin._

_"One must start these things early, my lord." He slowly let go of her hand, and walked back into the massive crowd, humming an aria as he left._

_"Father," the girl's father turned to attention, "why does that man look like an angel?"_

_The father sighed and got down on his knees._

_"Eve, that man is very bad. I don't want you to ever be anywhere near him unless I am close at hand. Do you understand?"_

_The girl nodded, dropping her eyes to the floor._

_"What's wrong, my darling?"_

_"I kind of liked him."_

_Her father's eyes grew cold, "Foolish girl. You're just like your mother."_

_Those were the harshest words he had ever said to her._

_And the girl resented them._

_"Oh, Monsieur, let us go back to dancing. The next song should be rather lively indeed!" The man's wife smiled at him rather seductively, beckoning him onto the dance floor._

_Her father rolled his eyes, "Coming, my dear Rachel."_

_The girl dug her fingernails so hard into her arms that they started to bleed._

_And she didn't seem to care in the slightest._

---

I turned the corner, heading into the double doors of the _Esprit Torture de Dieu_. It was a rather cold day outside, and I hoped to enter a warm atmosphere.

The entire building was freezing beyond belief. I was shocked by the way the harsh, frigid air felt against my tender skin. But there was nothing I could do. I was just a visitor.

"Coming to see _Monsieur Malfoy_ again?" The receptionist laughed and led me to the room. Room #13.

She shut the door, and I was faced with the sight of Draco Lucius Malfoy.

His hair seemed combed today, his frail body leaning against one of the padded walls.

"Si ne ce pas est mon dearest Alice." _If it isn't my dearest __Alice__._

"Pleased to see you too, Draco."

He frowned. "Je ne serai pas obligé à recevoir ici amical. Déclarer vos affaires et votre congé, je suis une personne très occupée et importante." _I'm not here to get friendly. State your business and leave, I am a very busy and important person._

Getting testy today, were we?

"I can see your huge line of clients waiting outside of the door, Mr. Malfoy."

"Arrêter la conversation, le petit oiseau." _Stop talking, little bird._

"I will as soon as I state my business. I have agreed to play messenger for you and dearest Virginia," he nodded, "In exchange for some research on her part. I have a question for you: Do you have any knowledge of the two of us being related?"

"Nos parents se sont connus. Cela est tout je sais de." _Our parents knew each other. That is all I know of._

"Oh, really? Do tell how my saintly father was in close contact with your dirty relations?" I spat on the ground. How DARE he shame my family name!

"Ceux-là qui peuvent apparaître saint peuvent battre le but d'est un saint. Il aurait pu être bon natured- je n'ai jamais rencontré l'homme. J'ai su votre mère, bien que. Elle était plutôt corrompue." _Those who may appear saintly may defeat the purpose of being a saint. He could have been good natured- I never met the man. I did know your mother, though. She was rather corrupt._

I didn't answer for a long period of time. Then, I croaked, "You tell the truth. I really must be leaving," I grabbed my purse, "Adeiu."

I heard him singing as I left. 

_La beauté et la vérité vont de pair. Bien que la vérité a tué la beauté, la beauté habite sur. Le monde devient plus triste avec chaque amour ou chaque mort. Ma vie est absurde, et je chante une nouvelle chanson…_

---

_"Ma petite fille, I am sorry for my behavior tonight. I should not have spoken that way to you. There are bad people in the world, and I must teach you to be rid of them. That man was a mudblood- an evil man. You don't want to be an orphan, do you?"_

_The girl slowly nodded._

_"Then do as I tell you, veille."_

_She nodded again, silent._

---

Next time: The unearthing of a will, properties, summer homes, and life at Hogwarts for our heroine!

And now- the glossary:

_Ma petite fille- My darling daughter_

_Veille__- Eve_

_Draco's song- Beauty and truth go hand in hand. Though truth killed beauty, beauty lives on. The world becomes sadder with each love or death. My life is pointless, and I sing a new song._

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\/    Review, darlings!


	4. Pity

A/N: The characteristic beginning author's note shall be withheld till the end. I know- I'm bad. One note: It will now state, both in here and the summary- This story is partly AU. Lily Evans did NOT die. Don't ask me to explain. All shall be explained, but she didn't die, as made specific in all 5 Harry Potter Books. Rest of the notes at the end.

Disclaimer- I own nothing except for specifically specified things. I don't own Harry Potter. I do have a laptop and an overactive imagination. Which are both bad things for a teenage girl. I'd also like to thank my AIM fangirls (you know who you are) that decide to make me write. Because I'm lazy. You can AIM me when I'm online if you have any comments/suggestions under the screen name xc3r341ki113rx . Cookies for those who can figure out what the 1337 means.

Le Garçon Qui Ne vit Pas plus 

Chapter 4

Pity

_I am the angel who's lost their way_

_I've also lost track of week and day_

_Sitting in rooms with white-washed walls_

_There's no such thing as a telephone call_

_When you reside in purgatory, just the same_

_It's so hard to realize that no one cares_

_And when the one you love the most_

_Is blissfully unaware_

_Love out of pity is sinful indeed_

Life proceeded to carry on as usual, just as it always had. No one could realize that my life had become any different, that I could seem to be a different person. The only problem was my penchant for frequent flashbacks. It's the feeling that someone is trying to tell you something, and never realizing until it's right in front of your face. I feared that this chain of events would prove to be most deadly indeed.

It was my trip to the Potter household, once again, that would change everything. The second one, I recall. 

Virginia pulled me through the house to the study, and sat me down in a leather chair. Then she, to my dismay, started to pace back and forth.

"Ginny, what's wrong?"

"Look, Alice," she sighed, "I can't find any information on anyone named Alice Everett. I can find information on a woman named Evelyn Everett."

I froze.

"Is she of relation?"

"I've never heard of her." Hopefully, she wouldn't notice my stammering.

"Well, she should be your age by now. Had some kind of illicit relationship with a man with the last name of 'Mauvais'. Her parents were death eaters, origins unknown. That's all I dug up." She nodded, obviously pleased with her research.

"Well, as you know, my parents weren't death eaters, and I've never met anyone with the last name of Mauvais…" I paused. "Any evidence linking me to Draco?"

"None at all. Did you know that the Malfoys used to summer in France?"

I wasn't paying attention. I was too busy trying to block information out of my mind.

_Evelyn… Evelyn… Evelyn…_

---

_"Evelyn!"_

_"Yes, father?" The girl stood up, now at the age of twelve. Her silky black hair flowed gracefully down her back and just barely reached her hip. She was dressed in a green cashmere sweater and black silk skirt, looking more around the age of seventeen than twelve. Her green eyes were framed by thick black lashes and her face was formed like doll's- with red ruby lips and pale, high cheekbones. _

_"Veille, I want you to meet the son of Mr. Mauvais. His name is Edward. He has come to visit for the afternoon while his father is on… business. I expect you to watch him in the house?"_

_"Yes, father, of course." Her father left, and the girl was left looking at a tall, slender boy with the posture of a statue. Though Evelyn was tall herself, this boy was much taller. Estimated around the age of fourteen or fifteen, his pale face was accented by his almost paler blonde hair. He looked unconcerned with the world around him, and let his eyes travel around the room. She met his grey-orbed glare and hastily looked away._

_"So you're Evelyn?" He smirked and looked her once over, "And you're supposed to be twelve?"_

_"Very much so.__ Would you like some tea?" She tried to smirk but to no avail. He let out a small snort, almost like a laugh._

_"You may call me Edward, I suppose. We go by middle names here. Are you named after your mother?"_

_"Well, my middle name is," She shifted her weight and blushed, "Mother has two middle names. One is Virginia, the other Rachel." She nodded, adding tact._

_"What's her first name?" They sat down on the couch, and it never occurred to her that he might be asking too many questions. She decided to sidestep._

_"I don't know. Father just calls her Rachel."_

_"Ah," He nodded and reached for a cup of tea. "I also have two middle names. The other one is-"_

---

"Draco Edward Lucius Malfoy, you have a visitor." The word visitor rang through the padded room, echoing the loudspeaker. Draco slowly turned around, facing me with a smirk on his face.

"I never knew your full name, Draco." I smiled and sat in a chair, staring him down.

"Vous me conduisez insensé, vous savez cela?" _You're driving me insane, you know that? _

My grin grew wider, "You're already insane."

"Non, tout le monde autour de moi est fou. Je suis normal." _No, everyone around me is mad. I'm normal._

I shrugged, "Either way. Virginia said you used to live in France."

"Vous a fait si, "Alice"." _So did you, "__Alice__"._

Internally shuddering, I continued, "I only spent the summers there. My father was… located there."

"Mon père était dans la dissimulation là-bas. Vous a fait si." _My father was in hiding there. So was yours._

I fought the urge to spit on the ground in front of me, "Your father should not be used in the same sentence as mine."

"Ils étaient les deux hommes horribles." _They were both horrible men._

My eyes held a glint of remorse. "C'était le défaut de ma mère." _It was my mother's fault._

"Votre mère ne l'a pas aimé." _Because your mother didn't love him.___

---

_She was sitting in the drawing room with puffy red eyes, surrounded by silks of every color. Her lush red hair was hanging limply down to her shoulders, her face held a pained expression. _

_Evelyn stopped in front of the door, calling- "Mother?"_

_Her mother cried and placed her face in her hands, rocking back and forth._

_"James…"_

---

"So, you're Alice Everett? Welcome to the Ministry Archive. How can I help you?" A female secretary nodded, and got out of her desk, "Give me a topic and I can direct you."

"Anything you can find on a woman named Evelyn Everett, please." 

"Certainly," The woman pointed to my left, "Walk straight down this hallway until you reach the door marked 'People'. Third stack to your left start the E's."

 I nodded and smiled, then proceeded to scale the hallway. Reaching the stack, I browsed until I found the Ev section.

Evans… Everett.

_Your mother doesn't love me anymore, Evie. You're all I have. All I have…_

I shook myself out of my thoughts and pulled the folder out of the archives. Sitting down on the table, I began to read.

---

_"Father, where's mother?"_

_Her father sighed and brushed a strand of hair out of her face._

_"Veille, your mother is out on… business."_

_"When will she be back?" She looked up at him with confused eyes, and received a cold stare full of sorrow. Evelyn didn't enjoy when her father acted like this. It was confusing._

_"She'll be back… later." He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped a tear from his eye. She could see the faint outline of his initials on the hem-_

_TMR_

---

End Chapter Four

Alright, here are my promised notes:

This story is partly AU now because the plot wouldn't work otherwise. I could have gone back and edited a couple things, but I write stories as new ideas come to me. It's no fun if I have a plan! I do have a plan for this ending, including my promised action sequence to my fangirls! Yay for fangirls!

truthxlies- Yes, you have permission to use the song. I actually made it up myself, and just used the French translator. Everything sounds good in French *smirk*

The new chapter of Think Twice comes next, or Margaret kills me. Then this, then Harry-less, then TIKI, then WIRED, etc. It's hard having 5 fics!

And since I love you, here are some author's notes:

**DragonsMistress** Oh, thank you so much for liking the fic! I'm glad that my translation adds substance to it. **MoonDevil99 **Haha, thanks! I really don't take French. I just have the most talented translator in the world. I'll put a link up in the next chapter. **Vampire Bat** No more fruit! Not my fault! I swear! I'm a good girl. **CheshireCat283** Yes, it's a good little ficlet. Behaves itself, too. Mattie, I need you to beta soon. Beware! **Idhren**** Noletura **Iddy! You reviewed me! Thank you so much! I love you too. Bet you didn't think Alice had THIS kind of mind, eh? **Alice**** in Wonderland **Yes Alice, It's very good.  I love it. **Caffeine **You are, by far, the best reviewer in the world. Therefore, you get the longest thank you note! Thank you so much for reviewing all of my stories the way you do. It means so much to me. You don't even KNOW how much it means. Well, you may have a slight idea. But still. It's alright that your last review was lacking the amount of humor that it usually does. You can make it up next time. Damn you to the rabid cow's bridal tent! **The counter **Hey, you, shut up. **Mors**Sorry I didn't let you read this earlier. You'd change it and freak me out. See- I AM good at writing angsty stuff!

To everyone else: I thank you from the bottom of my heart.


	5. Escape

A/N: Here we go. Another chapter. What do I do when I'm hopelessly infatuated with someone? I write fanfiction! And stick oodles and oodles of passion into it.

-Disclaimer- The song used in this story is called "Complainte de la Butte" by Rufus Wainwright, and used in the movie Moulin Rouge. I did not write it, although it is rather beautiful, as I sing it under my breath during 7th period. Margaret, however, owns the entire Harry Potter franchise (I will never shut up about that comment)…

**Le Garçon Qui Ne vit Pas plus **

Chapter 5

_Escape_

I sighed, blissfully unaware, and stepped into my kitchen. My owl, Rabbit, brought in the mail as usual. The raindrops were hitting my windowsill, making my head pound with even more of a morning migraine than usual. Plop… plop… plop… the noise had started to echo.

There seemed to be an escaped convict on the cover of the Daily Prophet. It was my day off, and I was accustomed to sleeping in. The rain had picked up, and I could see it dripping down the glass panes. Plop… plop…

I rubbed at my temples and stroked Rabbit silently, placing my toast on the table and adjusting my tennis shoes. I looked down at the cover of the Wizarding world's most famous newspaper.

Plop… plop… the noise was growing more persistent in my brain. It ached and pained me with the sound. I was never fond of rain. It always rained in France.

Draco Malfoy… plop… escaped… asylum… plop…

I set the paper down on the table and didn't let the door hit me on the way out of my flat.

---

"He's so alone without me! What am I going to do?" She collapsed sobbing again, rolling on the floor and flailing her legs in the air. One would assume, at first glance, that Virginia Potter was suffering from a temper tantrum and that she was currently the age of 5. But, no, she was just suffering from a panic attack. I sighed and tried to console her the best I could.

"Alright, he's a grown man. He can take care of himself. Merlin knows how much of a media uproar was caused because of this…"

"BUT HE DOESN'T S-S-SPEAK ENGLISHH!!!!" When she cried, I thought she greatly resembled one of those honking seals.

"Virginia, he understands English FINE! CALM YOURSELF!"

She stopped to dry her eyes on the red and gold silk curtain and lowered her eyes to the floor, legs sprawled out beneath her nightgown. I couldn't help but notice that she looked just like-

---

_The girl couldn't recognize her mother. She was lying against the wall with her ivory hand in the air, slowly tracing shapes. Recognition swept across her face- "Evelyn, come to mummy…" She waved her hand in the air and motioned for the girl to come forward. She obeyed._

_Her mother pushed a silky black strand of hair out of Evelyn's face and sighed, "You look just like your father. But you have my eyes, know that?" the girl flinched and shrank back at the cold touch of the woman. _

_"I want you to keep my last name, do your hear me? James and I always wanted a daughter…" She sniffed and continued, "I always wanted a daughter named __Virginia__. Such a pretty name… either that, or Alice." She giggled and waved her hands in the air again, looking preoccupied and distant, "__Alice__ was the one corrupt. She traveled through Wonderland… have you ever read __Alice__ in Wonderland? Of course not. Your father doesn't let you read muggle books…" Evelyn shook her head, and her mother continued, "But still. Eve. She was tempted to the tree of knowledge. You're a curious little girl, aren't you? Just like your mother…_

_I think I'll call you __Alice__… __Alice__…" She let the name roll over her tongue, "__Alice__…"_

---

"Alice? Earth to Alice? Chasing after the white rabbit again?" he chuckled and set his mug on the oak coffee table, running a hand through his hair nervously. "I never expected my Ginny to be so distraught about Draco Malfoy. _Draco Malfoy! _I mean, merlin, he's my worst enemy! It's almost like she's on his side."

"Harry- your worst enemy is Voldemort. Who is dead. That was just a schoolboy thing. Nothing more, nothing less. Both of you are mature adults. You should be over this kind of feud." I shook my head and looked down at my tea. He was acting very skittish, observing his surroundings rather cautiously. I sighed, "Harry, he's not going to jump out of the wall at you. I'm sure he's off in… Bermuda or something."

Later, I would prove myself wrong. Virginia led me up to her upstairs room, the twists and the turns making me dizzy.

And, therein lay an insipid man with tired eyes and flaxen hair, laid on a red plush sofa.

How does it feel to have your enemy above you? 

---

_The house was burning down. Engulfed by flames, swallowed by intense heat. Evelyn laid a slender finger on the metal railing of the fence and drew her hand away suddenly, startled by the scalding heat._

_Her father stood behind her, his hand on her head and his high cheekbones emphasized. His face was worried, but his face displayed a certain sort of calmness._

_Mother was nowhere to be found._

_Evelyn thought, from that moment on, that her mother had burned the house down._

_A policeman was singing as he walked down the street, twirling a stick in his hand like a baton. _

_"Petite mandigotte je sens ta menotte qui cherche ma main   
Je sens ta poitrine et ta taille fine   
J'oublie mon chagrin"_

---

"Les escaliers de la butte sont durs aux misereux   
Les ailes du moulin protegent les amoureux…"

"You saw that movie?" I asked.

He paused, "Film? C'est une chanson par Rufus Wainwright." _Movie?__ It's a song by Rufus Wainwright._

"Well, it's not technically by Rufus Wainwright. The good version is."

He rolled his eyes. Virginia was reading in the corner, her eyes buried a copy of Shakespeare's Othello. I could tell she wasn't reading very intently, and was instead paying attention to the conversation between Draco and I. She was holding the book upside down.

"Hmph. 'Bonne version' mon âne britannique." _Hmph__. "Good version" my british ass._

"You're too damn smug. You need to lighten up a bit. Live a little."

He rapped his head slightly, "Je n'ai pas besoin 'éclaire vers le haut,' en tant que vous mettez-tellement avec du charme le. Je suis torturé, rappelez-vous?" _I don't need to 'lighten up,' as you so charmingly put it. I'm tortured, remember?_

"Tortured? Don't make me laugh." He knew I was kidding around. He even smiled. Well- I think it was a smirk.

Virginia jumped out of her chair slightly as we heard the doorbell ring.

Harry called up the stairs shortly after.

"Virginia? It's the ministry. They have some… questions…"

---

End Chapter 5

---

Next time: Finally- the fight scene! Ooh. I wanna see Fudge get gutted… *claps hands gleefully* And more on family history. Of course of course.

I'd like to thank- Margaret: For turning around and looking at the story on my laptop when I made her, even though she probably wasn't reading. I 3 you! Zak: For, um, giving me inspiration. Alright- he didn't do anything. But he made me want to write and actually, subconsciously, made me finish this chapter.

Thanks to the reviewers, especially:

**Caffeine**- I know, I'm so sorry that your reviews aren't sending! There's not much I can do. You could always email me (the email address is in my profile) and send the review to make sure that it sends and ff.net gets the same one. I really do appreciate youuu! **MoonDevil99- **Oh, um, thank you? *blush blush* **Satans_Minion**- Oooh, thank ye Emily. I'll email you whenever I update, k? **Kodomo**** Hikari- **Oh, thank you! I'm glad that people think my writing has depth. I tried to weave all of the characters together to create a more interesting story. Also- I used a different writing style, which I find more ambient and very relaxing to write with. I really like my one-line paragraphs ^_^ Thank you so much for recommending my stories! I think they're rather good, myself **happigolucki616 **Yup, there's much more. Stay tuned to figure out the whole inner story! **VampireBat**- Yes, I know, we needs more Tiki. *winces and dodges fruit* **CheshireCat283- **Yup, I may need you for the next story. Or the very end of this one. *hugz0rz*

*gives cookie to everyone else who read and didn't review*

_La da da da da da da da da da   
Mes reves epanouis_

-Clare a.k.a. killtheposeurs


	6. Brawl

Note- Please, before you read this, go read the second chapter. I rewrote part of it that is ESSENTIAL to understanding this. Thank you.

A/N: I've been gone for so long that I almost forgot about My goal is to finish up all of my stories. And, yes, this is going to be the last chapter of Garcon. I'm adding an epilogue also, so you won't get bored. Don't shoot me dodges fruit I'm going to finish all of my stories, start a couple more, and then devote myself entirely to for this little story I'm calling **The Shakespeare Murders**. sinister laugh And, of course, continue rewriting wired.

I apologize horribly for not updating sooner. May fortune strike me down for being irresponsible.

Now, notes-

Firstly, I am not going to get a translator person thing. This story is almost over. Thanks very much to all of you who emailed me and offered to correct my poor French skills, but it's really quite alright. I will live with my crappy French (and so will you, if you want to keep your ribcage intact).

Secondly, I again apologize to all people who live in France or Canadadia (Canada, to the non-clinically-insane), for officially disgracing your language.

Now that my rant is over... enjoy!

**Le Garçon Qui Ne Vivants Pas**

**Chapter 6**

**Brawl**

"Virginia? It's the ministry. They have some... questions..."

Everyone froze. I could barely distinguish the noise and movement of Draco's sharp intakes of breath, in comparison to Virginia's holding her breath and trembling softly. I shut my eyes and took an anxious sharp gasp before walking out the door and into the hallway.

"She's asleep right now- the poor thing has had such a long day." I tried to make my voice take on a convincing tone, more of a sympathy plea. "Just tell them to come back, um, later?"

There was a slight pause. "No, wake her up."

Oh dear.

I slowly progressed back into the room, letting my boots scuff the polished wood floor. The look of fear in the poor young woman's eyes was too much to bear, and I could hardly bear the way her shoulders were slightly trembling.

Her eyes dropped in stature, prestige, everything. Everything she had built up over her entire life. I had always possessed the suspicion that she was a bit tired of being Mrs. Harry Potter. It's not like the position wasn't in demand. He was often one of **Witch Weekly's **"Top 100 Hotties", usually placing in the top 10 or so. Girls couldn't resist his dreamy smile and tousled air, it seemed. But Virginia... she was something different. I could tell that she wasn't one of those "gold-diggers", seeing as she had grown up rather poor herself.

All she ever wanted was love.

Draco placed an arm around her, giving her a tight hug before letting her go. She straightened her dress and stood up, dusting herself off and making a slow way toward the door.

Suddenly a change. I stepped in front of her, opening the door and walking the long hallways to where they were standing.

Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, and Harry Potter were conversing, chatting lightly. With them were about 10 to 15 guards of various heights, trained to look rather menacing.

"We're just going around and checking with anyone who has had any previous involvement with Mr. Malfoy. I'm glad that you're being so open about the matter. We," Fudge motioned to himself and his guards, "are quite thankful."

"It's nothing. I'm sure that Virginia will also be down in a moment. She's had such a long day."

I interrupted- "Mr. Fudge, if you want her, you can go get her. I need to have a word with Harry about... mother." I didn't care anymore. I knew. I knew the answer, I knew the reason, I knew my parentage. I knew who I had once known, I knew who my angels were. I also knew my demons.

Fudge fetched me a quizzical look.

"Take the stairs. 2 lefts, 1 right, 1 left. The plush looking room at the end of a hallway. Take some guards with you, if you want." I forced a laugh.

"Of course, Miss. Everett."

"Oh, please, call me Evelyn." I smiled politely, running a hand through my hair. There was something gravely familiar about the touch...

---

_She tangled her fingers in his blonde hair, feeling him close to climax and relief. He shuddered as he released himself inside of her with a passion as she came herself, both of them screaming out their cries in the air._

_Afterwards, they did not cuddle. Evelyn was not one to cuddle after sex. She turned herself on his large bed and rested her head in her hands as she sighed contentedly._

"_What's Harry Potter like?"_

_He paused his observations quite abruptly, staring at her with a mix of anger and shock. _

"_Why are you asking such a question?"_

"_Because I'm curious. Edward loathes talking about him." Evelyn nodded. "Something about turning him into a rodent."_

"_Potter is... an obstacle. He needs to be rid of. His mother was a very powerful and beautiful woman, though. His father was a different matter; much too arrogant for my tastes. I went to school with him. He suffers from a terrible upbringing..."_

"_Oh." She paused, turning onto her back. She was not afraid to expose herself to him anymore. They were used to it. Modesty was for the weak._

"_Le Garçon Qui Ne Vivants Pas. The boy who lives no more." He let out a small chuckle at that. "Everyone thinks that he is the savior of the Wizarding world, when really he is nothing more than a weak neglected child. As opposed to your father, child."_

_Evelyn had not seen her father for too many nights. The mansion was cold without them, and she had taken to staying with Monsieur Mauvais. He was old enough to be her father. And yet, there was still some kind of love between the two of them. Neither had been loved by anyone before._

_Except for Evelyn. She knew her father loved her more than anything in the world._

---

"I love you more than anything in the world," she spoke quietly, gazing up at his face. He smiled. "They can't take you away from me."

Virginia rested her head in Draco's lap. It was only a matter of time. He drew circles on her face with his finger and sang quietly in French; about love and war and sorrow.

It was only a matter of time.

She laid on her back, staring up at him contentedly. They acted calm, though they knew the worst was to come.

It was only a matter of time.

---

"_It's only a matter of time, Evelyn."_

"_Until what? You spit me out, like every other woman you play with?"_

"_This is different!" he shouted, staring into her eyes. "You have to make a choice. There is a war going on. Distinguish where your loyalties lie."_

"_You and your remarkable 'loyalties,' driving a women to her death because you were to jealous to admit fault! You only joined my father because he tempted you with the one thing you wanted most!" she spat venomously, letting the ending syllables linger in the air like heavy fog._

"_Your father only wanted a male heir, Evie. You've let him down. I'm not lying about that."_

_She paused, hurt._

"_There have been too many lies, sir. I cannot stand by and watch innocent people meet an untimely death."_

"_Think of your father, Evie. Think about him."_

_Albinoni's Adagio was playing softly from an antique record player. She gazed downward, averting her eyes, focusing on the ornate box. She stroked it lovingly- dragging her fingers across the smooth, sleek wood. _

"_I don't want to think about him. I don't even recognize him when he comes to call. He doesn't look like he used to."  
  
Monsieur Mauvais rolled his eyes. "Of course he doesn't. He has a mission to undertake."_

"_That doesn't explain why he always looks like he's about to die."_

---

"I think I'm going to die of suspense," Harry stated with a fake air of eloquence. "What was that little diversion about?"

Fudge had made his way upstairs, leading his band of merry fools along with him. Harry was confused as hell.

"Harry..." I started, choosing my words with incredible care, "there's something I need to tell you."

He stared in rapt attention. I knew that I needed to tell him the truth.

"You-know-who didn't kill both of your parents, Harry. He only killed one."

"You're lying. I'm not about to trust you." He scowled. I had figured that he wasn't going to listen. I was going to have to shock him.

"Look... my name isn't Alice Everett. It's Alice Evelyn Evans."

I couldn't miss the look of shock and desperation in his eyes.

"Your mother loved your father very much, Harry. They almost loved each other too much. She was a... a target for people. She was a very pretty and desirable woman. My father took her from you."  
  
He crumbled to the floor, legs given out from trembling.

"I can guarantee you that she wasn't very happy. She died when I was around 10. She only thought about you. She did not enjoy French society much." I glanced down at my feet, sheepishly. "All of the balls and banquets she had to take care of."

"Wait... wait... who... who was your... father... ?" He looked so sad that I almost couldn't bear to tell him the truth. 

"The person you hate the most."

"Draco Malfoy?" He asked, quizzically.

"No..." I sighed, "My full name is Alice Evelyn Evans Riddle."

I turned around quickly, so that I wouldn't have to see his reaction, and walked upstairs.

I did not want to see a grown man cry.

---

I reached the room just as Fudge and his investigators did, since, of course, they had no idea where they were going. The minister of magic knocked quietly, then just started banging on the door.

"Mrs. Potter, please open up. I'm here from the ministry and have some questions for you."

They heard loud sobbing, followed by a huge crash. Shocked, Fudge banged on the door again.

"Mrs. Potter... are you alright?" he asked, rather incredulously.

Inside, Draco and Virginia were trying to open a window. It wasn't working very well, seeing as the window wouldn't budge. They had taken to speaking in English lately, as Virginia had finally figured out that he hadn't forgotten the language in some tragic incident.

Draco frowned impatiently. "The clasp isn't working, and I really don't want to fall 8 stories to my doom."

"I'm sure the fall wouldn't kill you," she giggled half-heartedly, looking around sadly. "I don't suppose anything could."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm only human."

"No, you're really not..." she embraced him warmly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Please, don't do anything stupid."

"Don't worry, I won't-"He started, but at that moment, the door burst open.

It must have seemed very compromising to see Virginia Potter in a passionate embrace with someone who wasn't her husband. Especially to the minister of magic, and especially if the "someone who wasn't her husband" was an _escaped criminal_.

Virginia stared like a deer in headlights. "Erm..."

Her pause allowed Fudge just enough time to compose himself before shouting out with: "You are hereby issued under arrest, Mrs. Virginia Potter, for harboring an escaped criminal. Draco Edward Malfoy, you are to be reissued in the Esprit Torture de Dieu asylum until further notice."

Draco noted that his pronunciation of French was quite terrible. He came up with a quick idea.

"J'apprécie essaie du fromage." _I enjoy sampling cheese._ He stated primly, acting like it was something important. "J'aimerais vous faire claquer aussi avec un grand poisson." _I would also like to smack you with a large fish._

Virginia had to try quite hard in her attempt at keeping her laughter in check.

"Try to protest all you want, Mr. Malfoy, there's no getting out of it," shouted Fudge, having obviously forgotten that Mr. Malfoy 'only spoke French.'

"That's _Mauvais _to you, sir."

Draco grinned and punched the minister of magic in the face.

_---_

It was a long sort of fight- the kind that you often see at the movies. The surprise twist was that Virginia and I took out most of the 20-something assistants while Draco and Fudge battled with their wits, trying to intimidate the other into giving up.

Draco finally shot a successful Avada Kedavra in Fudge's direction. He fell quite gracefully, landing on the floor in a heap.

Virginia, meanwhile, had finally figured out the latch on the window. Her trembling arms pushed the window itself until it was halfway up, enabling more than enough room for a person to climb out.

"Draco, try using 'accio broomstick.' That might enable our fall to be a bit easier." She nodded, chuckling softly.

I smiled. "I wish both of you the best of happiness with your life together. Happiness has been long overdue."

"Nonsense- I've always been happy. As long as I know he's alive." Virginia leaned slightly out the window, gazing at the courtyard. "The tulips are so beautiful this time of year. I hate to leave my home, but I suppose that it has never really been my home at all."

"I guess it was a home of sorts," commented Draco as he stood staring at me. "For her, at least. Potter really loved her."  
  
Virginia turned around, cocking her head to the side slightly and asking her question. "Where has he gone, by the way?"

"I think he's still downstairs." I wrung my hands in disregard. "No clue."

It was almost too good to believe. But we had made a crucial mistake-

We all presumed that Fudge was dead.

A half-whispered "cruciatus" reverberated around the room at the same time as the minister pulled out his wand, pointing it at Draco. I gasped unexpectedly. This was a turn of events.

Draco twisted in agony, his body giving away his inner anguish as he stumbled backwards, knocking into Virginia. She screamed and fell backwards, tumbling out the window like a limp rag doll with red, flowing hair.

I heard a large snap and a breaking noise and prepared myself for the worst, running to the open window and peering out at the gruesome scene before me.

There was barely any blood. She had landed in the arms of an angel, so to speak. The statue in the courtyard was holding her in its arms, her lips twisted into an unusual little smile. There was a large gash on her head where blood was oozing from it like tears, droplets gracing her beautiful ivory cheeks before hitting the statue's hands.

I literally jumped down the stairs, running so fast that I was almost sliding down the marble staircase. Harry had also heard the noise and ran outside, startled at the sight of his wife.

I don't suppose people are usually so beautiful when they die. Virginia was the exception. She had felt no pain, finally knowing that Draco was safe, no longer under attack. She had done her duty, she had done it well.

Hearing footsteps, I turned around, staring unhappily at what was coming down the street. Cornelius Fudge along with some of his ministry friends, looking ready to kill.

"You are under arrest from the ministry of magic for harboring an escaped criminal. Please turn yourselves in quietly, you will appreciate it later."

I paused. "Well then who the hell was that upstairs?"

---

Overall, the whole matter was sorted out. Turns out that the impostor Fudge upstairs had been Peter Pettigrew and a crew of death eaters. They were able to identify him by the missing finger.

So, they decided to use Hammurabi's code to settle the matter. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. 19 people were killed in all, 18 of them wanted criminals. The ministry forgave Draco and gave him the choice of freedom or returning to the asylum.

He decided to go back to the asylum.

But first, he decided to perform a little matter of his own. The day of Virginia's death, he went back to the potter estate, standing in front of his lovely Ginny in the statue's arms.

"Metamorphosis caementum."

---

Virginia's funeral. The family had wanted it to be an open casket, but Potter disagreed. No one quite knew why. They guessed it was too painful to look at the woman who had never loved him back.

"Your sins are forgiven." whispered Harry, in regard only toward himself. He stroked the smooth wood softly before walking away, out of the building, back to his home.

He did not allow any visitors. They only would have asked him how he was _feeling_, how was he _coping_. He was not _feeling_ too well.

He spent most of his time outside, tending to the flowers just like Virginia used to do.

And he sat and cried in front of his statue, his Virginia finally captured in the essence of happiness. Her limp, pale body forever immortalized in stone.

---

End.

A/N: AHH! I FINISHED A STORY! Yes, I am writing an epilogue. Expect it soon, kids. It will explain what happens to our narrator. And it's going to read out a lot like the first chapter. Hint hint nudge nudge. I'm so very sorry that you had to wait so long to see what happened. Here's some things to clear up, if you missed them in the story-

Tom Riddle/Voldemort/You know who kidnapped Lily Evans-Potter, marrying her as bait for Lucius Malfoy to join the death eater party. Tom and Lily had a daughter, named Alice Evelyn Evans Riddle. She changed her last name to Everett for protection and dropped her paternal last name. She lived in France until she was old enough to go to Hogwarts, and then spent every summer in France.

Note- In death eater French society, they all refer to each other using their middle names, for security. Therefore Draco Malfoy becomes Edward Mauvais, etc.

Yes, Monseiur Mauvais is Draco Malfoy's father, Lucius Malfoy. Therefore, this story includes description of underage sexual relations between an adolescent and adult. I apologize if this offended you.

Thank you so much for reading, and please expect the epilogue soon!

-Clare/KillthePoseurs/Ming


End file.
